


Special Girl

by BiJane



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Ending to S2, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Future, Gen, Other, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2014-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-18 09:24:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2343401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiJane/pseuds/BiJane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years ago, Rachel abducted Kira. In another lifetime, maybe Sarah would have succeeded in freeing her. </p>
<p>What if she didn’t? </p>
<p>This is the story of Kira Duncan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Girl

**Author's Note:**

> Plenty of notes to preface this story, many of which are apologies. This is not a happy story.  
> Sometimes I get ideas in my head that I think might be interesting and this, unfortunately, is one of them. I hope you enjoy, if enjoy is the right word.

The same old routine. DYAD was still interested in her genetic code, after all these years: the child of a clone, something about that. Kira had usually tuned out by then. They seemed to be performing these check-ups just for the sake of it, by now.

Her mother asked her keep up with them. While its direct purpose was just to examine her genetic structure, and any irregularities in development, it would also prove an early-warning of any disease, any illness. Her mother could be rather overprotective.

“Name?” the receptionist said.

DYAD had outsourced the check-ups, when they’d learned the most important things from her genes: when they’d arrested the development of a respiratory illness in her mother, ooh, about four, five years ago. Now the examinations were primarily for medical reasons, it seemed better to have professional doctors perform them.

“Kira Duncan,” she answered.

A moment of silence: the receptionist scanned a list on her computer.

“Dr Osborne is running late,” she said, “Take a seat, he’ll be here shortly.”

Kira moved to the waiting area, sighing. Even this was part of the routine, in a roundabout way. Her doctor never seemed to arrive on time.

And she couldn’t have a replacement doctor: her mother was very insistent. Something about trustworthiness, and aptitude. Kira was used to it. There were a lot of rules to be aware of, a lot of things to know to say, or not to say.

DYAD had made a few enemies: Proletheans especially. Ever since it had come out that they’d been involved in human cloning, despite a long legal battle granting the company the right to do so, there had been several people rather less happy.

Rachel, especially was in danger. She was both with DYAD, and a clone; a sign of their ‘crimes against humanity’ as the anti- rhetoric went. As her daughter, Kira knew to be careful.

It was still a mystery how that fact had gotten out. Kira had heard the name ‘Sarah Manning’ bandied about when the news had first broken, as impromptu, urgent meetings had taken place in the rooms of her house. She’d been too young then to really remember.

What Kira did remember, though, was that she’d felt something at the name. Some flicker of recognition, some flashes of memory. Now, however, there was nothing.

Whoever this Sarah was, she was a stranger. A stranger Kira hoped she’d never meet.

* * *

_“_  They had Kira." _That thought had made Sarah storm out into the street, vengeful, wrathful, mournful. She’d made it almost a block away before she’d slowed, with no idea of what she could do, beyond shout._

_For brief, mad moments she considered turning herself in to DYAD. At the very least, she’d have a chance to see Kira: maybe even break out._

_And she very nearly did: before another part of her mind spoke up. A far louder part of her mind: a part that demanded blood._

_She’d get Kira back, and she’d take DYAD down piece by piece if she had to. Everyone in the way, and everyone responsible for taking Kira. Sarah was used to doing what she had to do._

_When she heard Helena had returned, she brusquely rushed past Mrs S to find her. Her sister was far more experienced with the thoughts Sarah found herself having._

_Bringing Kira home, and making DYAD pay. Two things Helena was more than happy to help with._

* * *

When Kira got home, her mother was busy. Some suit or other talking animatedly, while she stood and listened unflappably.

“And you are telling me that with all the resources available, a lone woman is evading you?” her mother said in a clipped, professional tone.

“One is too small a group,” the suit said, “And, as I’m sure you’re aware, she has practise at this. You asked us to report when she came near you, that is all. I can promise you we will find her if she acts again.”

“Be sure you do.”

“In the mean time, I would suggest you invest in some greater security,” he said, “We both know why Sarah still hasn’t given up.”

Sarah. That name again. It was one of the relatively few secrets her mother kept from her: who Sarah was, why she hated DYAD so…

“I agree,” her mother said. “In the interests of safety, I’m changing the password again. Susan. If I start a conversation without that word, it’s not me. Use as much force as necessary.”

The coolness in her mother’s manner and voice faded as soon as she caught sight of Kira standing in the doorway. Immediately, she raised a hand to signal the end of her talk with the suit, and quickly crossed the distance to beckon Kira in.

Kira was glad. While it was no secret her mother had to be involved in some less savoury work, for the safety of DYAD and her family, Kira didn’t relish hearing it. She didn’t like seeing how cold her mother could become.

More flashes, more memories she resolutely ignored. Probably some old nightmare.

“How was it?” her mother said. “Are you well?”

Kira nodded. “Same as ever,” she said.

It was almost a tradition, by now. Her mother had asked the same question, all the way back when she’d had to kneel to meet Kira’s eyes. She’d done the same after every check-up, even though Kira knew she checked things with the doctor without fail.

“That’s good,” a genuine smile, and her mother kissed her cheek. “I’ve got a little business to finish before I can spend time with you. Is that ok?”

“I can entertain myself,” Kira said, and chuckled. The smile stayed on her mother’s face.

“That’s good,” she said, again.

Her mother stood, turned, and began talking with the suit again. Used to her briskness, Kira left.

* * *

_Cosima wasn’t doing well. She’d found information that could lead to finding a cure, but it was no use without DYAD’s resources. They had the key to the code, and they’d acquired the code which they needed to crack, but even doing so didn’t magically give them the cure._

_They needed to work for it. Unfortunately, Delphine had burned the last of her bridges at DYAD to just stay with Cosima, and keep working on getting a cure. They’d found and planned something which would almost certainly work, they just needed a lab to use._

_It was harder with Sarah out there. Every other clone was being watched, in case she tried to make contact. DYAD had already withheld a cure from Cosima as incentive for Sarah, they couldn’t risk trying to make the theory a reality._

_Cosima stayed in bed most days, now. She wore the same tubes, and Delphine was glad to look after her. Felix too, despite his playful protests._

_A knock at the door. Felix opened it, and standing there was Sarah._

_“Hi Fe,” she lifted a hand, “Mind if I come in?”_

_Felix stepped back, at a loss for words. It was hard to know just what to say: it had been weeks since they’d heard anything from her._

_First they’d heard Kira had gone missing. They’d seen Sarah once, briefly after that, and she’d swiftly made her excuses and left. Art had mentioned running into her, and that was about it._

_“Careful,” Cosima croaked, at the sight of her. “DYAD, they’re- watching.”_

_“Don’t worry,” Sarah shook her head, “Helena should have taken care of them. I just wanted to see you, see how you’re holding up.”_

_“Aside from not being able to breathe, just fine,” Cosima said. Sarah chuckled._

_“So you’re hanging with Helena, then?” Felix said._

_“Yeah,” Sarah said._

_“How is the little psycho?”_

_“Good,” Sarah said. “She’s helping me get to Kira. Shouldn’t be long now.”_

_A few seconds. Sarah took a step towards the lying Cosima: Delphine stepped in front of her._

_“What are you doing, Sarah?” Delphine said._

_“I told you,” Sarah said, momentarily confused: “We’re going to get to Kira, and-”_

_“That’s not what I meant,” Delphine said. “What about everyone else?”_

_“She’s got a point,” Felix said, “We’ve got DYAD camped outside 24/7. Not exactly a fun way to live, watched by them.”_

_“And Cosima,” Delphine said, “Your two-woman war means they’re not letting us help her.”_

_Sarah paused; looked from Felix, to Delphine, to the echo of her own face lying on a makeshift bed. Cosima wasn’t saying anything now, only a twitch in her cheek giving any sign of life._

_“I’m sorry, I-” Sarah said, by instinct, before catching herself: she looked at Felix. “I want her back, you can understand that.”_

_“I know,” Felix softened, “Just-”_

_“Is she more important than Cosima?” Delphine said: raised her voice._

_Sarah looked toward her, briefly shocked. Then she shook her head, as much to clear her mind as anything, before taking a step back._

_“Forget it,” Sarah said, “Forget it, I shouldn’t have come.”_

_With that she turned, and left; walked out the door. Though both Felix and Delphine moved after her, called out, she didn’t so much as turn._

* * *

Kira had learned piano. Her mother had insisted that she take up at least one creative pursuit, and Kira’s interest in music had translated to learning an instrument. Piano had been the one she focused on, for several years now.

They had a piano in the house. A very top-quality, high-end, sleek instrument, purchased by her mother as soon as Kira’s interest became serious. Kira liked to practise and, when she wasn’t busy, her mother liked to listen.

Kira had everything she could want. If she expressed interest in music, she got a piano. If she fancied a pet, the next morning she awoke to a puppy.

She liked her mother: she always tried so hard. Kira might not always show it, but that was expected of anyone her age. She did feel it though, always: gratitude, love.

More flashes, then. A room, unhappiness; memories either suppressed or forgotten. Kira didn’t worry about them, she knew only that she was happy.

Ignoring it, Kira kept playing. Her fingers danced over ivory keys, her eyes focused mostly on the sheet music, occasionally on her hands at any tricky points. It was only when she finished, that she looked up over the black of the piano, to her mother’s smiling face.

“That was beautiful,” she said, and stood to move closer to Kira.

“It wasn’t,” Kira said: looked down, flushing slightly.

Her mother’s compliments always made her blush. It wasn’t that they were rare, only that they seemed meant exclusively for her. When Kira had seen her around other people, she’d never said so much as one good word.

Kira turned at a hand on her shoulder, to feel her mother embrace her.

“It was lovely,” she said. “Truly. You’re talented, Kira.”

“Thank you,” Kira said, hesitantly. As ever, she feigned embarrassment at her mother’s fervour.

“I’m lucky to have you,” her mother said, every syllable brimming with rare emotion.

A few seconds more, and she pulled back, to meet her daughter’s eyes.

“Have you considered performing properly?” her mother said.

“Is it safe?” Kira said.

She knew from experience, that was always the first question to ask. Theirs wasn’t the safest family, with the prejudice against human clones out there. She’d seen how her mother got when she was in danger.

“More or less,” her mother said: “It should be soon. I just wanted you to consider it, for when it is.”

“Um, I guess?” Kira said.

Her mother smiled, once more, and leaned to hold her again. “My special, talented girl.”

* * *

_Fourteen months after Cosima’s funeral, and Felix stood in an airport, his one bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes scanned various signs and lights, as he tried to figure out his way through._

_“Brother-sestra?” a familiarly accented voice caught his attention: made him turn._

_“Helena,” he said. By force of habit, he quickly scanned his surroundings._

_He hadn’t heard of Helena doing much of, well, anything in recent days. Still, he couldn’t forget who she used to be: and neither could he forget walking past an unmistakably DYAD car with shattered windows and a blood-soaked interior, on the way out from Cosima’s funeral._

_“No Sarah?” he said._

_“Sestra didn’t think you would like that,” Helena said: she quirked her head. “We’re looking for an angel.”_

_“Kira. I know,” Felix said: paused. “Any luck?”_

_“Angels are always hidden well,” Helena said. “Do you want an angel?”_

_“Of course I want Kira back,” Felix said. “I’m just tired of this. Of everything. Cos, Delphine after… I can’t keep-” he shook his head, “Good luck getting Kira. Let me know if you find her, I just need out.”_

_Helena’s head tilted the other way, an almost feline motion. Then, a nod._

_“Goodbye, brother-sestra,” she said._

_“Bye killer-sister,” Felix said, and sighed. “Say bye to Sarah.”_

* * *

It was a pity, how often her mother had to be out of the house.

It had been worse the last week or so, with the return of this ‘Sarah Manning’. Still, her mother had promised it would be over soon, and she’d spend more time at home; and, hopefully, things would be a lot safer for both of them.

Kira wished Sarah would just stop. Whoever she was.

Relaxing, Kira switched on music: a classical piano piece, one of her mother’s favourites. As the lilting melody filled the rooms of their house, she exhaled, and sat down in her room, a book in hand.

Most of her life was leisure. Her mother insisted she not have to worry about things; and there was no need for her to work, DYAD more than supplying enough money to live comfortably on. Beyond check-ups, Kira found she spent most of her time in the house.

Then again, that was for security reasons, as much as anything. She’d tried to learn the names of the various guards that wandered outside the house a few times, mostly several years ago. She’d fast realized there were too many to bother.

Looking up over the top of her book, Kira peered out the window, idly seeing if she could recognize any. A couple of times, a familiar face walked by: she recited guesses at their names in her head. When one glanced at her, she waved.

Eventually, she returned to her book, hearing the music return to its starting point.

It was a good book: one she’d read before, but nonetheless enjoyable. She’d have to see if they could get any more books in: Kira preferred walking around bookshops to pick more up, but she doubted her mother would let her, not now.

She’d become far more paranoid in recent days. That damn Sarah.

Kira put the book back on its shelf, idly pacing. She slowed after passing the third or fourth window, frowning. It might be her imagination, brought on by thoughts of her mother’s paranoia, but she hadn’t seen any guards for a while.

Slowly, Kira went to turn the music off. Uncertain, she waited: listened.

She couldn’t hear anything: or anyone, for that matter. That could be good or bad. Mentally, she recounted the various rules her mother had given her, in case she didn’t feel safe.

Kira hurried back to her room: in the wall by the bed was a speaker tied in to the guards’ radios. Kira hit the button.

“Um, hello?” she said. She’d done the same before, a few times: it had mostly just been nerves. The guards were good-natured enough not to mind: or, at least, they knew not to complain.

No reply. That put things firmly in the square of ‘not good’.

Next step: make sure you were alone, press the panic button. Don’t let any possible intruders know that you pressed the panic button: don’t make them rush, or worry.

Casting a glance over her shoulder, and kicking her door shut, Kira reached under her bed. It was the nearest such button: probably a striking red like the others. She hadn’t seen this one: the purpose of the buttons was to be out of sight, save for those who knew to look for them.

After a few seconds of flailing, Kira felt the bulge: pressed down. There was no sign anything had happened, but then there was never meant to be.

Just seconds later, there was the sound of breaking glass, and someone kicked Kira’s door down. Turning, Kira found herself looking down the barrel of a gun.

* * *

_Night time: an alleyway. She was fully aware of the fact that she was being followed: and reasonably sure she knew who was following her. Her contacts were useful when it came to knowing when certain people had returned._

_Alleys were the best places for such impromptu meetings. Few frequented them, and there were far fewer places to hide._

_A few steps in, and she turned around: called out. “Sarah.”_

_A shadow turned the corner fully: a woman dressed from head to toe in black, casually enough that it wouldn’t draw attention in the street, but practical enough that she all but vanished in the night-time darkness._

_“Siobhan,” Sarah said._

_“Mrs S, please. ‘Siobhan’ doesn’t sound right in your mouth,” a chuckle. “Can guess why you’re here.”_

_“You always know more than you say,” Sarah said. “Figure if anyone knows where Kira is, it’d be you.”_

_“If I knew, do you think she’d still be with DYAD?” Siobhan Sadler said, “I can tell you who she’s with, but I’m sure you can guess.”_

_“Who?”_

_“Rachel, of course,” Siobhan said._

_“She’s alive?” Sarah said._

_“You_ are  _out of touch,” Siobhan said: “They found a cure for her illness, with Kira’s help no doubt. Not that it did Alison any good.”_

_“Alison?”_

_“I thought you’d at least have kept tabs on your old friends,” Siobhan said: shook her head, sighing. “The same illness claimed her. Where_ have  _you been?”_

_“Busy,” Sarah said, curt. Her expression softened: “Don’t think I don’t wish I could have been there. For all of them. I just- I wanted to find Kira. It wasn’t meant to take this long, but I’m not giving up now.”_

_A pause: Mrs S sighed. She was hardly one to condemn Sarah for that._

_“Is that all?” Siobhan said. “Find Rachel, and you’ll find Kira. That’s all I’ve got, I’m afraid.”_

_“Not quite all,” Sarah said._

_Another brief silence. Sarah was still for a few seconds, before shifting; she had one arm bunched up in her coat, and she quickly extricated it, pulling out a bundle of black._

_Mrs S took a step closer, surprise barely showing on her face when she caught sight of a pale face. A baby: it could only be about a year old, at most. A bit big to really carry, but walking around followed by a tottering toddler was hardly conducive to sneaking._

_“Her name’s Cosima,” Sarah said. “She’s Helena’s.”_

_“Helena’s?” Siobhan looked up: that time, her surprise did show._

_“Long story. She’s not around,” Sarah said: her inchoate smile faded at the memory. “I need you to do what you did for me. I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to find Kira, not now, and I can’t raise her. She needs another family, somewhere DYAD won’t find her.”_

_Siobhan looked at the child: young eyes, a tiny hand waving. It was all too obvious she didn’t have the slightest clue what was happening around her._

_“Cosima?” Siobhan said: looking up._

_Sarah nodded._

_“Ok,” Mrs S said. “I’ll see what I can do.”_

* * *

Kira tried not to shake. It was hard not to, with a stranger pointing a gun at her head, but she’d learned her mother’s stoicism. She stared, defiantly, up at her assailant’s face.

A very familiar face. A soft gasp escaped Kira’s lips: another of the clones. Like her mother, like so many: but that wasn’t possible. Her mother was the only one they’d been able to save from the genetic illness.

“Who’re you, then?” the assailant said. “I’m looking for Rachel Duncan. You’re a bit young to be one of her lackeys.”

Next rule. What to do if attacked: say nothing, or say as little as possible. Figure out what they wanted, and see if any bribe could be offered.

“Quiet one, huh?” the invader said: she stepped into the room, kicking the door shut behind her, and pinning Kira to the floor with the threat of her gun.

Kira stayed silent. Shivered. She hoped the panic button had worked: hoped Rachel or someone or anyone had heard, and was coming. By the look and sound of it, this woman was alone: and alone, she’d gotten past all of the guards.

It was hard not to be scared.

“Your name, then,” the assailant said. “Give me that, at least. You her monitor? Didn’t think her tastes went that way.”

“Kira,” she said, instinctively. Her name couldn’t do any harm, and silence was all very well in theory, but unbearable with someone demanding things of her.

And as soon as she spoke, the assailant froze on the spot.

“Say,” a pause: a crack in their firm demeanour, “Say that again. Your name.”

“Kira,” a shiver, “Kira Duncan.”

Kira hesitated, then. Identifying herself as Rachel’s daughter might not be the best course of action for someone so keen on finding Rachel. ‘Finding’ being a euphemism for something Kira didn’t want to think about.

The assailant stared at her for a long few seconds: then her eyes widened, and she straightened, staggered back. She let her gun-arm fall to her side, raising her other hand to her forehead in a mix of utter confusion, and utter frustration.

“I didn’t think- Changed, of course she’s changed, idiot. Not- at-” she muttered to herself, barely audible. Then, far more distinctly: “ _Shite_.”

A pause. The assailant’s entire posture changed, and Kira shrunk back. The invader noticed that, and took a step nearer: raised her hands, with the gun hanging off one finger.

“Don’t be scared,” her tone immediately softened. “Please, you don’t need to be scared. It’s me, it’s Sarah. Sorry monkey, I didn’t recognize you, I just-”

Sarah?

“I don’t know you,” Kira said.

Sarah seemed to be frantically backtracking: she knelt, in front of the sitting Kira, and dropped her gun. Her face went from threatening to an attempt at reassuring.

“Yeah, I must look pretty different, huh? Been a few years,” Sarah said. “It’s me though, I promise.”

“Who are you?” Kira said.

Next rule of survival: keep them talking, if they were the kind of person who spoke, and who didn’t ask for information. Very few people hurt those they were in conversation with.

“It’s me, Kira,” Sarah said: a frown creased the top of her face: “It’s Sarah, your mother.”

“You’re not my mother,” Kira said, flatly. “I don’t know you.”

A moment of silence. There was something unreadable in Sarah’s expression; some bafflement, some fear. She mouthed something, before blinking, and speaking again, her voice more urgent now.

“This isn’t funny, monkey,” she said, “Quick, please, Rachel’ll be back soon, and-”

Sarah reached to take Kira’s hand: Kira pulled her arm from her reach, wriggling along the floor as best she could. It was a pity Sarah was between her and the door.

Something changed on the assailant’s face: it looked as though something had crashed down around her. It would have been moving, Kira reflected, if she wasn’t so obviously mad.

“I’m not leaving my mother,” Kira said.

Sarah mouthed ‘mother’, some agony in her eyes.

It was a face Kira had seen before. She’d admit that: the same face, a similar voice. But they were the same as Rachel’s, the same as her mother’s: that didn’t make this stranger her mother.

More flashes: old, bad memories, nightmares. Nonsense she’d long since stopped listening to, and her mother had helped her disregard.

“The hell has she done to you?” Sarah said.

Now there was anger in her voice: real anger. Kira shrunk back, again.

“No- I’m sorry, it’s not you I’m mad at, just-” Sarah was shaking now. Kira didn’t know what to make of that. “Come with me, please. Come with me Kira, I won’t hurt you, I promise. Just- let me explain, I swear I’m- Kira, please.”

Desperation. It startled Kira how dispassionately she could regard this stranger’s pleas: probably another trait she’d picked up from her mother.

Still, Kira felt only fear, and pity, and scorn. She couldn’t flee, not with Sarah between her and the door, but Sarah didn’t seem to be willing to fight her. Kira didn’t give any credence to the delusions that had inspired that.

Maybe she could fight? The gun was unattended on the floor, only just out of arm’s reach.

Sarah took her wrist, now, beginning to pull as she pulled Kira to her feet: Kira resisted, flinching when Sarah turned to face her.

“Please,” Sarah pleaded, “Just come with me. I’ve looked for you, searched- years of it. Kira, please, I can’t lose you again.”

“I don’t know you,” Kira said: and pulled more roughly on her arm, stumbling back, and landing again on the floor.

The final expression on Sarah Manning’s face was one of complete disbelief, and profound hurt. The sound of a gunshot, from an unseen source, and she fell forward.

“Kira,” wide eyes stared at her. Repulsed, Kira scrambled to the side, letting the mad stranger fall, and got to her feet: ran from the clone.

Her real mother, Rachel, stood a room away, through an open door (when had it opened? Everything was a blur). She scanned the room and, upon seeing no other assailants had made it in, lowered her gun, and moved to hold Kira.

“I’m sorry,” her mother said, and it really was remarkable how similar her voice could be to Sarah’s. “I didn’t think she would dare… It’s over now Kira.”

“I know,” there were tears, but just a few. Shock more than anything.

She hadn’t seen anyone killed before. It wasn’t a pleasant sight, even if the deceased was a dangerous madwoman.

“Are you ok?” Rachel pulled back: met Kira’s eyes.

“Now, yes,” Kira said.

“Did she- say anything? Do anything?” Rachel said.

Kira shook her head. “Nonsense,” she said, already forgetting most of it. “Nothing important.”

Rachel smiled: and pulled her close for another hug. “It’s ok now, my special girl.”


End file.
